Writing Eternity
by ItsClydeBitches221B
Summary: A short fill for June 2016's A Monthly Rumbelling: Gold, an ancient god, meets a quirky mortal. (Original prompt: "Unexpected rainstorm")


He'd never been interested in a mortal before.

Gold sat down at the bus stop, 9:00am sharp, just as he had for the last 800 years or so. Of course, it hadn't been a bus stop back then. Once it had been his shrine: a massive alter that had been truly beautiful in its horror. People used to leave him foods and favors, the blood-soaked armor of their enemies, hoping blindly that he'd design to grant them more strength. Gold rarely did. When he bothered to involve himself in mortal affairs it was always under the guise of a weighted deal. He'd invented the 'tit for tat,' the 'you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours.' It had seen Gold through the last millennium and he had little doubt that it would see him through the next.

And he'd need every advantage he could get. Gold scowled fiercely at it all, this modern world passing him by. Despite his best efforts, the gods of old had slowly faded from mortal memory, entering into myths and legends instead. His once sought-after alter soon became an ignorant fool's destination, then a mere landmark of history, a forgotten ruin, a field, a rather different kind of community, and eventually this place of travel–where friends and students and businessmen of the new world passed through. They left trash in their wake, like strange offerings. Spit balls and initials of forgotten loved ones carved into wood. Gold despised it all.

Even that had faded with time though. The bus route changed and the stop broke down. No one bothered to decommission it. It simply became another landmark to ignore: crumblings seats and weeds growing up the enclosure. If anyone noticed the same man sitting there day after day, they didn't care. No one paid any mind to his same suit that was always pressed and perfectly cleaned, the same book in his hands, his features that never changed.

No one except a woman in a gold ball gown.

She attracted notice. Strolling languidly down the sidewalk with a smile on her face. Her massive skirts collected the dirt and dust of the city, her heels caught on cracks and her hair was disheveled by wind. For all that though she was _gorgeous_. An embodiment of beauty that sent heads turning with every step. Even so, Gold was prepared to pay her little mind. He'd seen stranger people wearing stranger things in his time.

Yet… she stopped.

"What are you reading?" she asked and Gold stared, because she was one of the few to speak to him in months and the first to do so with a smile. This wasn't a tentative woman worried about the strange, solitary man; nor a child too young to question the safety of their actions. She was of perfect age with perfect curiosity and she sat beside him, kicking out mud-splattered tulle.

"I _adore_ books," she said. "I've read and own many books, more than I could ever count, but I have to admit that I've never seen one quite like yours before. What's its title?"

"Everything," Gold said, and finally turned the volume for her to see. The cover was black with gold stitchings down the spine, though the pages were blank. At least, that's how they would appear to any mortal. For Gold the ink would well up whenever he wished, presenting him with every story– _any_ story–that had been or would be conceived. It was a small perk of the job. A manipulator of deals had to understand the fine art of crafting a tale.

To his surprise though, the woman didn't point out the obvious discrepancy. She didn't run either, suddenly scared by this strange man who read a volume of nothing. She did touch the pages though, as if admiring the craftsmanship if not the story.

"I'm Belle," she suddenly announced, kicking out her feet. Tiny pebbles flew and more dust settled on her gown. "It means 'Beauty.'"

Gold inclined his head. "I'm aware."

"And you are?"

"Gold."

"Gold?"

"Indeed."

"No one is _named_ Gold."

"No?" He set down his book, pulling at the sleeves of his suit. How overdressed they must look to passerbys. "I don't see why not. I named myself after a precious metal, favored and fought for the world over. You are named after… a thing of noise." He smirked.

Belle lifted her head and laughed. "Only in mis-translation. Is this what precious metals do then? Rust by the side of the road, sequestered in spaces that go nowhere and no longer welcome anyone?" she spread her arms, admiring the weeds and trash around them. "Why are you here?"

"…There is nowhere else for me to be." Then, suddenly seized by a desire to speak truthfully, he turned to her, his knee pressing into hers. "There are some that have called me Dark One."

"Really?" Her eyes were wide. "What a scary name."

"It was justly deserved."

"I'm not sure I believe that." Before he could counter, Belle had snatched his book, running her hands lovingly over the cover. She pressed it to her chest with exuberance and looked to the sky. "What a curious man you are. Would you like to spend forever with me?"

Gold froze. "I beg your pardon."

"Can I go with you, forever?"

"…I think I have a bit more 'forever' than you do, dearie."

Belle hummed, seemingly not convinced. Despite her beauty and curiosity, Gold was tempted to scare her off, this odd little mortal girl who needed a doctor more than a god. He lifted his hand to do just that when she stood, twirling to stand before him.

"Perhaps you'll reconsider," she said, smiling. "What's the most _beautiful_ thing you can think of?"

 _You_ , he thought, but Gold shook his head. "I don't deal in beauty."

"Then make something up, silly."

Very well, though Gold's mind was too filled with the ugliness of this world–-from the old to the very new. He pictured wars and smaller sufferings, the cracks that surrounded him in mind and body, all these tiny people lost in their brief, pointless lives. Finally–-with her staring at him so intently-–Gold thought to the day before, when an unexpected storm had scared off all the people, leaving just him and his book in peace.

"A summer shower," he answered.

One moment it was a clear, blue-sky day. The next Belle raised and snapped her fingers in a gesture so familiar it tore Gold's breath away. Clouds gathered and water poured from the sky. He stared in awe as her dress was washed clean and her face was illuminated by lightning.

" _I_ deal in beauty," she said. Belle handed him his book. "Read this tale, Gold. Consider forever with me."

Then she was gone, though the storm remained. Shielded from wind and rain Gold opened his text, finding words welling up about a goddess he'd never heard of, one who commanded the Good and the Brave and, yes, the Beautiful too.

Heart hammering he flipped through… but there was no ending.

Their story went on forever.


End file.
